Darker Than Love by Kristina Lloyd Page B

four, but neither prospect appealed. Clarissa would far rather sit alone, waiting for Lucy.
    She was a little perturbed about meeting her cousin. It had been some three years since they’d last met, and that was at Mr Singleton’s funeral. Since then Lucy was rumoured to have been out with several different men, yet had married none of them. Her husband had left her well provided for and she’d once said, according to Aunt Gwendoline, that she had no need of a man except in her bedroom. That had been the final straw for Charles Longleigh and he’d declared that, under no circumstances, was Clarissa to associate with such a low-tongued light-skirt.
    But Clarissa couldn’t help but think what a delight it would be to talk to someone closer to her own age. She wondered if cousin Lucy was acquainted with Lord Alec. She knew but little of the man chosen for her. She’d been patient, expecting their meeting to be imminent. But now it wasn’t and her curiosity was piqued. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending the next few weeks knowing only that the Earl of Marldon was dark, handsome and somewhat sophisticated.
    There was a chattering commotion in the hall. Clarissa’s stomach flared and danced with nervous expectancy. Would her cousin have changed much? shewondered. Would she really be pleased to find her sitting on the sofa?
    The door flung open and Lucy, a froth of tulle and lace perched atop her corkscrew curls, bustled into the room. Exclaiming her delight, she wove a hasty path through the furniture, pursued by the soft whisperings of her magenta gown. Clarissa rose to greet her.
    ‘Gracious heavens,’ sparkled Lucy, clasping both Clarissa’s hands. ‘Alicia said you’d grown into quite a beauty but she neglected to say how beautiful.’ She stepped back to run admiring eyes from Clarissa’s dark tresses to the flounced hem of her muslin day-gown. ‘Ha, dearest cousin, such looks will get you into trouble some day, of that I’m sure. How are you finding London? And dear Aunt Hester? Why, I hear Marldon’s been somewhat tardy in presenting himself. Men! Do sit down, Clarry. Tell me everything. I’ll ring for some tea. No, no. Some Madeira, don’t you think? This calls for a little celebration.’
    Clarissa nodded mute compliance, unnoticed by her cousin, who was already making her way to the door. Ignoring the bell-ropes, Lucy called out for wine and cakes. She hastened back into the room, unpinning her hat and chattering gaily about all the places Clarissa ought to go, the people she ought to meet. Really, London was the most marvellous place to be in summer. And, if Lord Marldon couldn’t be in town, then Clarissa ought to jolly well have some fun until he deigned to grace her with his presence. There was absolutely no point in moping around, waiting for his lordship, was there?
    Clarissa was grateful when the wine arrived and cousin Lucy paused for breath. It gave her the chance to respond to the stream of questions, and the two of them giggled over Hester’s dreadful fatigue and the changes Alicia was wreaking on Mr Longleigh. Then Clarissa, nervously fingering the stem of her diamond-glinting goblet, asked, ‘Have you ever met the Earl of Marldon?’
    ‘Mmm,’ mumbled Lucy, licking cake crumbs from her fingers. ‘But it was some time ago, and I confess to having paid him scant attention. He’s very handsome, of course. But, cousin, allow me to offer my advice. Do not think on him overmuch. Why, if you do, you’ll be quite frantic with impatience before the month is out. Find something to distract you, perhaps a young beau to while away the time. After all –’
    ‘Lucy!’ reproached Clarissa, making no attempt to conceal her disapproval. ‘How could you say such a thing?’
    ‘Oh, what’s the harm in a few secret kisses?’ she said, shrugging. She poured out more of the rich, golden wine, despite Clarissa’s insistence that one glass was perfectly adequate.
    ‘London’s quite